


Snowfall

by RTSideStories



Series: Fenrir [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3154499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RTSideStories/pseuds/RTSideStories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been three years since the dopplebanger situation, and Stiles/Company have made themselves home in the city of San Francisco.  While things seem to be going well for everyone involved, there are a serious problems going behind the scenes.  Like the unusual weather patterns covering the city in a nasty cold snap, the feral population STILL on the rise, the Zaurs being their naturally brutal selves, and a mysterious boy on the outskirts of town that the Argent Hunters can't seem to catch.  <br/>Then there's the Nightsbane Report.  What does it contents mean to Stiles and the rest of his family?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1A

The Zeon-Nova, one of the hottest new night clubs in San Francisco, was a constant rave-status.  Packed to full capacity of 200 people of varying sexes, orientations, genders and even species, the room was one fire with dancing, grinding, and loud beats booming overhead.  The black tiled flooring was illuminated by the spinning neon lights in the ceiling, giving it a rainbow of color and life.

Both half-naked men and women were serving drinks everywhere, while getting tipped in their undergarments.  Most men were in tight fitting briefs or jocks, while the women only wore frilly panties, exposing their chests just like the male waiters.

One particularly handsome muscle-bound waiter stopped in the far corner, where a table of four very handsome men were enjoying the “show” out in the center, as male and female dancers put on a rather unusual gymnastic show, not unlike Cirque du Soleil.

“Order for Stilinski & Company?” the jockstrap clad server asked, looking up from the ticket in his free hand.

The male in the center, a lanky and pale 21 year old with short-cut brown hair, nodded.  His short ponytail, down to his neck, swayed as he nodded.  “That’s me!” he said, pulling out a wad of cash out of his pink and red button-up shirt and paying the bill.  The man took it gratefully and smirked flirtily towards the kid.    

“Thanks!  I was dying,” another male said.  This one was a muscular god not even bothering to wear a shirt and having  jeans that were about a size too small.  He took his drink, a tall purple beverage, from the tray and immediately slipped a five dollar tip into the waistband of the waiter’s jock.

“ETHAN!  No fair, I wanna tip!” another man screamed.  Another skin-and-bones built man with gel-styled brown hair, and a very inappropriately cut t-shirt, took a small amber shot glass from the tray, and flashing a winning smile.  “Name’s Danny.  I am VERY pleased with my service,” he said, throwing another five into the waistband next to Ethan’s.

Stiles sighed, turning to the remaining male.  “Isaac, why do we ever take these two out in public?  Things were a LOT calmer when it was just you and me  More importantly, why do we let them pick where we go?” he asked.

Isaac, taking the remaining drink, a martini, rolled his eyes.  Unlike the other two, he was dressed appropriately like Stiles, in a warm brown sweater and deep red scarf.  

“You’re the one that INSISTED we take turns picking where we went on guys night.  Did you really think Danny or Ethan WOULDN’T pick a gay bar with naked stripper servers?” Isaac asked sarcastically.

As the server walked away, Ethan and Danny both turned to Stiles with half-irritated glares.

“Would you QUIT complaining?  Yeah, we get it, you’re engaged to hunky mcwolf ass, but the REST of us would like to get some action!” Danny shouted, sipping at his drink.

Stiles smiled, glaring down at his left hand.  A massive silver ring with a wolf engraving had been on his left hand for the better part of two months.  

“It doesn’t feel like it’s been…  You know, three years since we got here.  Feels like it should be like a WEEK tops,” Stiles said warmly.  he went back to his drink, downing as much as he could.

Ethan held up a glass, as if to toast.  “Hey, it’s been a hell of a three years, am I right?” he exclaimed.

Smirking, Isaac nodded as he gently stirred his drink out of habit.  “Stiles, Jackson, and Scott are doing good in school, and will all pretty much graduate on time May after next.  Ethan’s got his modeling career started, Danny’s the annoying superhacker turned wolf, and I’ve gotten to be the manager of the Starbucks across the street from our house.  Yeah, I’d say it’s been a good three years,” he said, turning to Ethan.  “Speaking of which, don’t you have a shoot tomorrow?” Isaac asked.

Ethan shook his head.  “Nah, I turned it down, wasn’t all that big of a shoot, I can afford to miss it.  Just an underwear catalog, not a big name brand...  Besides, since Derek’s busy with all the planning bullshit, I offered to take our newest Omega out to hunt so he doesn’t try biting the neighbor’s poodle when he hits the full moon,” he explained, winking in Danny’s direction.

Danny’s gold eyes glanced away.  “I did NOT bite the neighbor’s poodle.  I just…  You know…  Thought it looked tasty,” he grumbled.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles starting sipping down his drink.

Really, he never figured his life would have turned out this way.

So much had changed as they started their new lives away from Beacon Hills.

His best friend Danny had gotten mauled by a siren on his first week at Berkeley, and Derek had to give him the bite in order to save his life.  So naturally, his best friend and support system since freshman year got to come live with the rest of their pack.  Danny had presented as an Lambda, which wasn’t all that surprising.  Lambdas had higher than natural intelligence, and had a higher percentage of their brain functionality unlocked.  Given Danny’s natural gifts with electronics and computers, he’d been an invaluable asset to the Hale Bestiary and taken it over from Stiles.

Then there was Ethan.  At first, the writing hatred continued in the first few months.  Though the pack had come to LOVE their fluffy little amnesiac.  Easygoing to a fault, despite not knowing anything about his past, Ethan didn’t let it bother him, instead choosing to move forward into the future, Stiles found him to be a comforting friend with no dramatic strings attached.  

In fact, Ethan, Isaac and himself had forged a solid platonic relationship based on the lack of dramatic strings, and the combination of their sordid pasts and a need for touch, comfort and attention.  He hadn’t expected it, but being around each other was like being wrapped in a warm blanket made out of puppies.

More than friends, but DEFINITELY not lovers or boyfriends.  

Isaac still hated the idea of sexual or romantic relationships, and Ethan more or less didn’t feel anything without his memories.  They were just…  Together as themselves, and knew what each other needed.  Derek called it “cuddlesexual”, and was very supportive of their weird-ass three-way relationship, trusting in his and Stiles’ love for each other.  The appropriate term, according to Peter, was “anchor”, who stated such relationships in werewolf culture were common with emotionally stressful childhoods. .

Danny tried to shoehorn in with them, but he was more like an annoying little brother than anything else.  He definitely had different intentions, and obviously had a massive crush on Ethan.  

Still, the four of them always had a ball of fun together.  It was nice to have such close friends,a trusting fiances, family support, and the past three years had finally been a wake-up call for Stiles.  

His life really could be good again.

“Hello?  Mr. Future Stiles Hale, you in there?” Danny asked, knocking on Stlie’s forehead as he’d gotten lost in thought.

Stiles laughed, shaking off his mental dialog.  “Sorry…  Zoned out there for a bit,” he explained.

Isaac rolled his eyes.  “Anyway, like I was TRYING to ask was how classes were this week!  I had full shifts and haven’t had a chance to see you all week long!” he said, pouting as he rested his head on Stiles’ shoulders.

“Good!  I’m doing great in all my classes except for Symbology.  I’m a wolf, so magic isn’t really my strong suit, and I can’t cast anything higher than a class 1 spell.  Dean Argent is going to let me do a written exam in lieu of a practical one, since it’s not really my fault I can’t cast tier 3 elemental spells.  I literally have less than a pinky full of magical competence, and I hate my Junior year hard-core because of it,” Stiles said, sighing as his head smacked against the table.

Danny patted him on the back.  “Dude, relax.  Weren’t you saying last week that you passed your live-fire test in Hunting 301 with a 98?” he said.

Still pouting, Stiles nodded.  “Yeah…” he grumbled.

“He also got a 100 on Demonology a couple weeks back.  Not to mention his Bestiary Project last Semester that he earned a 120 on in Classifications 203, AND got a Dean’s list letter of approval on!” Ethan exclaimed.

“Dean Argent also comes over for dinner ALL the goddamn time and never shuts up about how amazed he is with Stiles’ progress,” Danny offered.

Stiles smirked.  “Yeah…  I guess so,” he said, earning back his warm demeanor once more.

“Awesome!  So who wants to go and dance?  I FULLY plan on making a walk of shame in the morning!” Danny exclaimed, laughing as he managed to finally get tipsy..

Ethan, Stiles, and Isaac all sighed in unison.  Even if Danny was brilliant, some things NEVER changed.

Still, they all stood up and got ready to head to the dance floor.

At least, until their ears and noses all piqued.

A disgusting smell, like rotten eggs.

Danny growled.  “Fuck NO.  NO.  This is GUYS night!  We are not obligated to do ANYTHING.  Call Adam and make him get his lazy ass off the couch for once and help!  Call Derek, he’s at home!  Call ANYONE!” he shouted.

Isaac banged his head against the table.  “Every goddamn night.  Did someone low-jack us when we left Beacon Hills?  Or do we just have a glowing neon sign on our heads that says “COME TO SAN FRANCISCO, WE HAVE LOTS OF TASTY HUMANS TO EAT!  Don’t worry, the Hales have all the time in the world to kick your ass,” he exclaimed in a deep sarcasm.

Sighing, Stiles shook his head.  “I’ll handle this one, I do it during school anyway.  You guys stay here and have a good night, don’t wait up.  I’d rather not leave all these people unguarded anyway,” he said.  Stiles put down his drink and grabbed a large black coat from his seat to warm himself up with.  

There was mild objections, but Stiles reassured them everything was fine.  Eventually, he got the pack to begrudgingly enjoy the rest of their night.

“Be safe.  Howl if you need us,” Isaac added immediately as Stiles left the table.  

He planted a chaste kiss on Ethan and Isaac’s heads.  “I’m practically immortal.  I’ll be super-safe,” Stiles offered politely.

Wading in out and out of the club’s many drunken guests while he waved farewell to his friends, Stiles pushed the front entrance open, and went out into the dark street.  

For around 1 in the morning, it was particularly dead, without much in the way of foot traffic. Probably for the best.

Stiles shivered, bundling up for warmth.  San Francisco was having its coldest winter on record since its founding, a cold 10 degrees for OCTOBER.  It was frankly ridiculous, and no other part of California was having the stupid cold snap they were having.  Some people were even predicting a snowfall by December if things kept up.  

He shook off the cold, exhaling loudly as a stream of cold left his lungs.

Stiles sniffed the air, satisfied with his sense of direction.  Turning to the right, he didn't’ have to walk all that far before reaching an abandoned shop in the region.  It had once been a restaurant, but was obviously closed down if the signs and bars on the windows were any indication.  

He noted the broken door knob and sighed.  “Seriously?  Goddamnit, the cops are going to be PISSED,” Stiles said to himself, as he turned the door and let himself inside.  The bars and sealing tape had been broken as well, meaning that whatever had gotten inside was physically strong.  

It didn’t take long for Stiles to make his way inside and spot the perpetrator.

A blonde woman with scorching red eyes.  She was wearing a thick parka, huddled for warmth in the corner.  Dozens of feathers lined the region around her, and a small fire had been started with wood that had once been the floorboards of the restaurant.

“You can’t be here, you know?  Like, the Supernatural have to stay in their special shelters, you can’t just break into places and…  Live there.  The mayor DOES not like that at all, and frankly they’re not safe half the time anyway with all the hunters around.  Besides, they’re not all that bad, I promise.  My fiance has really helped make them comfortable, like a nice-hotel kind of comfortable.  They’ve got food, shelter and a job program with SN-approved work locations,” Stiles offered.

Hissing loudly, the woman exposed her hands, where thick talons erupted.  Talons covered in blood.  

Stiles sniffed the blood, clearly disgusted.  Domesticated dog blood.

“You did not SERIOUSLY kill someone’s pet dog?  Oh my god, you are SUCH a terrible person!  Dogs are NOT lunch!” he spat out.

The woman stood up from her huddled corner, throwing off her parka.  Wings erupted from their once-hidden state, and Stiles could make out razor-sharp teeth from her still-hissing mouth.

“Harpy?  Okay, that’s a LITTLE more comforting.  Though you might have been a siren at first, but Harpy is DEFINITELY better.  I know you’ve got a heart in there,” Stiles said, with a warm smile.  “Listen…  Just put the claws away, and we’ll-”

Unable to finish his sentence, the Harpy lunged forward, screeching as she aimed her claws right at Stiles’ neck.  To which, he easily held up a hand, stopping her mid-flight as he grabbed her wrist.

“Yeah, no, don’t do that.  Please don’t fight, because that’s totally not cool.  I’m trying to give you a chance here,” Stiles said, clearly unphased as the Harpy’s other hand attempted to claw and decapitate Stiles’s other hand.

The Harpy hissed.  “STUPID WOLF.  MY KIND HAS EXISTED FOR CENTURIES BEFORE HUMANS CAME ALONG.  I’LL DO AS I PLEASE, AND NOT BE-”

Stiles proceeded to swing the Harpy with his hand, slamming her into ground, and leaving a noticeable crater in his wake.  The beast looked up into the air with wide eyes, as she shivered from a combination of surprise and from the cold.

“Yeah, okay, no.  So you’re probably going to fight me, huh?  Well that sucks.  Because honestly, there’s no reason for you to be all high and mighty over humans.  They’re actually getting to be-”

Once again, the Harpy leapt up, aiming her teeth and claws for Stiles’ neck.

Countering, Stiles lifted up his leg and slammed the full weight of his body into a kick that landed on the Harpy’s skull in a downward motion.  She was once more pummeled into the ground before she could even stand up, leaving an even deeper hole than the crater once had.

“Fine.  You know?  I gave you a chance.  99% of the hunters would have just taken you out.  I like to think that there is good in everyone, but NOOOO, you just HAD to be a bad guy!” Stiles said, reaching into the inside of his coat.  

Retrieving a 9 MM pistol, Stiles checked the clip that was already inside, while simultaneously removing the safety lock.  The clip had a symbol of the the moon engraved at the bottom.  Satisfied, Stiles took the pistol in both hands, pointing it at the Harpy as he aimed professionally.

“As a licensed Hunter representative of the Hale Pack, I’m asking you to turn yourself in.  You’ve yet to violate any laws other than breaking and entering.  I’m willing to look the other way on you assaulting me.  Come quietly and I promise you a fair trial.  I can’t in good conscious just let you go though…  You’re violent,” Stiles explained dully.

“DIE YOU PATHETIC MUTT!” the Harpy screamed, flying up into the air as her wings expanded.  Moving forward, she expanded her talons tenfold, making them as large as her wings themselves.  Lunging, she moved more quickly than she had before.

Deftly dodging the frontal assault as she flew past him, Stiles rolled away from her, stopping on one knee as he re-adjusted his aim.  He fired a set of three rounds from his pistol.  Two slammed the harpy in the back of the shoulders, while the third one went into the center of her back.

Stiles smirked.

The harpy just laughed.  “Stupid wolf!  Can’t even fight like the beast you are!  You really think that HUMAN bullets are going to kill me?  IDIOT!  They can’t even pierce my-...”

Her voice quieted.  Violent black sparks erupted from where the bullets had entered the Harpy’s body.  She fell to her knees at first, struggling to stay upright.  Little by little, minor glyphs appeared on the harpy’s body.  Spell circles and symbols that surrounded a crescent moon.  In one last thud, her entire body slammed into the ground, as she struggled to move.  

She was not going anywhere anytime soon.

Stiles sighed as he stood up from his kneeled aiming position.  “Gravija bullet.  Neat, huh?  Pretty much everything inside the bullet’s glyph range is going to have about 200% additional gravity thrown on your skeletal structure.  Depends on your body’s strength and where I shoot you at.  I wouldn’t worry.  The shoulders and central stomach will balance it all out  You won’t die.  You just won’t be able to move for the next six hours.  Took me a hell of a lot of time to make that thing  Still, it’s my best non-lethal weapon,” he said, reaching into his coat’s pocket.  He retrieved a cell phone and began keying in a number.  Stiles then bent down, glaring at the Harpy.  “Seriously, I was going to let you go.  Now I’ve got to call the Hunters to clean up.  Sorry.  That’s my duty as a Hale,” he mumbled.

Four unanimous screeches echoed in the room as he nearly pressed the “call” button.  

“Wondered where your flock was.  Harpies usually go in flocks of 6 to 12, right?  Smelled at least three…  Huh…  Guess my nose was worse than I thought.  Seriously, I fail as a wolf.  Should have brought Ethan, he’s good at helping me out,” Stiles groaned.

Turning around, Stiles watched as two males and two females appeared out of holes in the ceiling space.  They dropped to the ground with angry thuds, with talons and fangs already out and ready for a fight.

Stiles dropped the pistol he’d been using against the first one.  With his now open hand, he turned and reached into his black coat.  As it waved open, the Harpies glanced inside.

Over 3 dozen types of pistols were strapped to the inside.  All 9 mm variations of the same tiny gun he’d used.  The only exception being that each gun had various symbols and inscriptions on them.  Suns, moons, fire, ice, water, wind, and many others.  

Grabbing another pistol, engraved with a sun symbol, Stiles aimed it straight in the middle of the remaining four.

“I’ll give ya’ll the same chance, you know?  You guys haven’t even pissed me off yet.  So that’s a VERY good sign,” Stiles said quietly.  

Ignoring Stiles’ warning, the four harpies lunged forward, screaming as they darted towards him.

Stiles fired the entire clip in a burst fire, the second before the harpies launched their attacks.  Each bullet missed their bodies by a mile, instead streaming a good foot or more from their bodies.  Though as they circled the harpies, each bullet was engulfed in glyphs of light.  

Casually, Stiles reached into his front shirt pocket with his free hand and put on a pair of wide sunglasses.  He turned away as each of the bullets exploded, cringing in anticipation.

Then, in a massive explosion, each bullet released blinding light.  Not unlike 7 miniature suns, the erupted heat blew the harpies back as the light enveloped the entire region.  

Lasting a little over a minute in length, the light died down, leaving only the darkness in the room once more.  Darkness, and four well-roasted harpies.

Stiles took off the sunglasses, placing them inside his shirt, grateful he’d chosen to wear long clothing.  

“Helio Bullet.  Basically you got roasted with the light equivalent of 20 gajillion light bulbs.  Well, give or take a few…  Really good for groups of enemies.  Wasn’t sure if they’d work, just made them in Metalcasting 304…  Oh well, good to know…  By the way, if you stop moving, you can recover.  There wasn’t actually any fire, just..  Basically you got a nasty sunburn,” he explained, sighing quietly.

The remaining harpies were gently smoking, having their clothes burned up in the process, and their supernatural skin absorbing most of the abuse.

One of the four late arrivals, a woman, held up her hand.  “We…  We surrender,” she groaned, before finally passing out on the floor.

“Great!  I was hoping we could resolve this peacefully,” Stiles exclaimed, putting away his pistol while also recovering the one he’d dropped alongside his cell phone.  He finally pressed “call” on the phone and rose it up to his ear as the other line picked up immediately.

“Allison?  It’s Stiles.  Can you get your grandpa on the phone?  I could use a cleanup crew.  Harpies.  No need in bringing out any hunters, just a collection crew.  They’re not going to cause any trouble,” Stiles said kindly.

+

After the cleanup crew came and picked up the harpies, Stiles was able to get home about 8 AM the following Saturday morning.  

The new Hale home was a series of renovated townhouses, isolated from most of the city’s population.  A few other wolves, mostly free Omegas attending college and a couple of vampires, rented out a few apartments that the Hales had set up across the street.  Not to mention the Starbucks that the Hales owned as franchise owners, and that Isaac was currently running for them as the manager.  Their neighborhood was basically a hotspot for the Supernatural college students

Walking through the front door to the main living area, Stiles yawned loudly, putting his Hunter’s coat on the coat rack.  He glanced around, looking at the massive sectional couch that surrounded Jackson’s entertainment center.  Isaac had naturally crashed on the couch, waiting up for Stiles and wrapped himself up in a blanket.   

He could already hear Jackson and Scott clearly awake upstairs, enjoying their usual Saturday break from school to talk and cuddle.  At least they’d finally got the sex-hunger out of their system (homework and college does that to people), laundry wasn’t gag-worthy as often.

Cora and Hunter didn’t even live with them anymore, choosing to live in private rent homes about a block away.  

Adam did still live with them, but he wasn’t in the house, unsurprisingly.  Neither was Danny.  Though he was pretty sure he knew where Danny would end up, based on their choice of venue last night.  Adam was…  Well, nobody knew exactly what Adam did, but he was gone from home more often than he was there.

Stiles sighed, stripping off his button up shirt, and stretching out peacefully in just his white T-shirt.  Strapped to his shirt was three guns reachable at his back, as well as a compactable rifle strapped to the side.  He tore those off as well, adding them to his coat rack of weapons.  Kicking off his boots, Stiles made sure to strip off the combat knives and the hidden barrel  at the bottom of them, so he could put them in his tennis shoes for Monday morning.

Finally fully unarmed, Stiles could relax.

“No!  No DO NOT PUT ME ON HOLD AGAIN!  For fuck’s sake, I have called you the better part of three weeks now and…  NO!  DON’T YOU FUCKING-” Derek exclaimed loudly.

Stiles smiled, forgoing  bedtime to walk towards the home office, where Derek did most of his work.  In his free time, he acted as the manager for the apartments across the street and would fix any problems or make repairs, but lately had been given orders from his mother, Talia, to begin coordinating a family reunion.  

Why the sudden reunion?

Well, it wasn’t a secret that the city of San Francisco was THRILLED with the new Hale representatives.  Supernatural based crime was down by 20%, and the police department finally had people capable of assisting them when things got hairy.

As such, Derek was a common face in the city, almost always on the nightly news in some way or another.  Both the human and supernatural communities saw him as a middleman between the city and the supernatural.  For as much as the Hales had to fight, there was just as much peaceful interaction.  The shelters for Supernatural wanting to live with humans peacefully was just one of the projects Derek had headed.  Work programs with SN friendly businesses had been the latest success.  

Everyone and their dog knew that Talia wanted the family to celebrate Derek’s success, and Peter hinted at the rumor that Derek might be promoted within the family, and even run San Francisco permanently.  

“FUCK YOU.  FUCK YOU, FUCK YOUR GODDAMN HOTEL AND FUCK YOUR STUPID RICK ROLLING HOLD MUSIC!” Derek shouted, slamming the phone into the ground and crushing it.

As Stiles walked into the paper-heavy office, Derek was repeatedly slamming his head against the wall, still in his pajamas.   

“Stiles.  I.  Hate.  Red.  Tape,” Derek grumbled bitterly, not moving from his spot.

Stiles chuckled.

His fiance hadn’t changed all that much in three years.  He was still hunky muscular McDreamy, except now with pierced ears and real wolf fangs dangling from them, spoils from a kill he’d made against a feral in their first week of classes.  He never took them off.  “A show of power for those that would threaten me” he stated, but Stiles figured there was more to it than that.  

Though that was Stiles’ own little secret.  No sense in revealing to the world about their sex life and love of having thing to yank at for mild pain play.

Off in a corner dog bed in the office, a German Shepard started panting wildly as Stiles entered the room.

“Aww…  Is Daddy scaring my little Thor?  I’ll just have to shoot Daddy’s ass, won’t I? Oh yes I will!  He can have ALL the bullets,” Stiles said, baby-talking as Thor made his way to Stiles, immediately cuddling and tickling his neck off.

Derek groaned.  “Next time Scott brings home a hurt dog that he treats, remind me NEVER to let you near it.  I can just imagine the kennel we’d end up with,” he said playfully, as he stepped towards Stiles, kissing him on the lips.  “So?  Isaac said there were harpies?  Everything go okay?  No big injuries I should be aware of?” he asked, running his hands up the back of Stiles’ shirt and hitting ALL the right spots as he pulled his mate off of Thor and into his own body.

Stiles nodded, sighing dreamingly.  “Meh, not a big deal.  Just 5, non-trained.  Gerard came with a clean-up crew to pick them up.  Had to stay with them for the night though, give statements and whatnot.  Officer Parrish let me crash on his cot while we waited for everything to get processed.  Still tired though,” he answered, yawning as he laid his head on Derek’s chest.  “I’m guessing the search for the illusive 100 man hotel is still on?” he asked playfully.

Growling, Derek nibbled on his mate’s ear.  “Bastards.  It doesn’t help that there are ZERO hotels that even have 150 vacancies in December, but half of them want to charge an additional 40% “feral gratuity fee” because apparently werewolves make “messes”.  I think I’m going to murder the Hilton and take ownership.  That’s easier than bureaucracy,” he joked, lapping at Stiles’ neck with his tongue.

“You realize that’s not how the world works anymore, right?” Stiles asked, laughing as Derek started pulling at his ponytail.  The 3 inches of braided off hair in the back drove his mate INSANE.  At least there was one good thing to come out of his Delta genes and the unwieldy hair growth he experienced.

“It should,” Derek said, flipping Stiles’ hair back and forth.  “You’re tired.  I’m frustrated with red tape.  What say you, me and Thor go to bed and sleep in for once?  Ethan said he’d make you pancakes when you got in.  Maybe he’ll make me some too,” he asked.

Stiles grinned.  “I knew there was a reason I loved you,” he said happily, putting his arm around Derek’s waist as they strolled out of the room and towards their bedroom.  Thor trotted behind them, wagging his tail excitedly as he hobbled on his three legs.

At least until Derek stopped him at the door. “OH!  Before I forget,” he said, stopping just before the staircase to their second floor room, and snagging a brown box.  He handed it to Stiles.  

“What’s this?” Stiles asked, opening up the box.  inside of it was a set of old-time cassette tapes.

“Something from Peter.  He mailed it from China while he’s dealing with the Xiao-Longs and the Zaur expansion project.  Something Xin Xiao-Long found in her grandmother’s storage center.  He figured it might help with your Fenrir Research.  He was busy and didn’t get to talk much, but apparently it’s got something about the werewolf classes, which might have something to do with Fenrir.  He’s too busy to look into it right now, and hoped you might be interested in learning more about our kind,” Derek explained.

Digging deeper inside the box, Stiles retrieved a small notebook.  It seemed to   

“The Nightsbane Report : A Systematic Classification of Werewolves : Dr. Cecil Noir”

“Huh…  Guess it’s like audio logs and a research journal,” Stiles said, flipping the notebook in his hand.  He sighed.  “I’ll listen to them at night.  I’m too tired to look at this shit right now, and I’m in the middle of classes.  I need to focus on my Hunter skills right now anyway,” he admitted, putting the box on the edge of the staircase.  

+++++

** _Nightsbane Report : Log 34_ **

_Cee?  Is the blasted thing on?_

_CEE.  Get off the phone with that damn mall guard and get in here!  I NEED TO KNOW IF THE DAMN RECORDER IS-..._

_Oh, it’s on?  Yes!  The red flashy light is on!  Good!  Good!  I’m smarter than I thought!_

_< Audible static cut>_

_So uh…  Right!  Let’s get down to the nitty gritty._

_As of today, I’m ready to compile the Alpha Report, for the Nightsbane Report.  It’s really a remarkable find!_

_Alpha Cells, like I assumed, have about twice as much mitochondria as humans.  I’m considering that all werewolf cells are the same, but I’ll require more information before I can state that as fact.  I’ll have the other 25 cells to confirm soon enough._

_Anyway, the increased source of energy is the natural reason why the Alphas are so quick to heal.  The muscle, bone, skin, and organ cells can recover upon injury, assuming that the brain is still in-tact to send such a message out to the body.  In a rather morbid observation, I watched as an Alpha’s arm was re-grown from scratch, after being severed in a Honda factory on a less than safe line-assembly.  The process took a week, but sure enough, so long as the brain was still functional, the werewolf body is near-immortal and can heal.  It's a painful and brutal process, but still..._

_Though that’s far from the most interesting find.  Werewolf healing is already well documented.  No big surprise!_

_What I’m REALLY interested in is the find on a genetic level._

_My two donors, Montgomery Hale and his teenage daughter Talia Hale, would be expected to share the same kind of genetics, correct?  Current science supports that parent and child share DNA, correct?_

_Well, you would be wrong!_

_Yeah…  How’s that for a shock?_

_< The sound of a woman applauding sarcastically comes in the from background>_

_CEE SHUT UP.  YOU GO BACK TO YOUR MAGICAL FENRIR THEORY.  I’LL DO THE ACTUAL SCIENCE HERE!_

_< Loud insinuation that Cecil is a piece of shit>_

_< Audible static cut>_

_Upon inspection, Talia’s genetics were more “hardened”, and the cellular structure of her white blood cells are remarkably different.  When exposed to certain diseases, they were annihilated.  Furthermore, her body heals and reacts faster than her father’s.  After inflicting the same injury on both parties (a 3 inch cut to the shoulder), Talia’s wound healed in 9.38 seconds, while Montgomery’s healed in 19.34 seconds._

_I originally assumed that perhaps aging in werewolves had a factor in the experiment, and therefore attempted a secondary experiment._

_Peter and Kyle Hale, two outsiders of the Hale family that recently joined the pack, were brothers by the same father.  Kyle is roughly 5 years older than Talia, while Peter is roughly 165 years older than Talia, and would therefore show an “advancement” if age were a factor in healing._

_Once again, when comparing Peter and Kyle’s wound recover to their parental figure (a 300 year old male), the same information seemed to crop up.  Their father healed his wound in around 21.34 seconds.  Peter and Kyle healed in 10.31 and 9.32 seconds respectively._

_I have more trials to run, but I firmly believe that age does not affect the cellular structure and its ability to heal.  Peter is old enough that if there were a decay in healing, it would have already shown as compared to his younger brother._

_Which leads me to a theory._

_My theory being that Alpha cells and genetics EVOLVE between generations.  The trials that the parent faced are passed down to their children through genetics, and spurn on evolution to make them stronger and faster than the generation past.._

_In short, the Alpha gene is capable of LEARNING and affecting the genetic passing of information to its offspring._

_In his youth, Montgomery Hale had a bout with polio, which left his left leg mildly maimed for three years as it healed from the disease that his family had never once actually contracted before._

_Talia’s cells, by contrast, show complete immunity to the polio virus._

_I also have the strange suspicion that the genetics pass on “instinctual” memories to the children._

_Peter Hale’s father was attacked and nearly killed by hunters in his early years, back when werewolves still hid in the shadows of our world.  An arrow shot him in the back, coated with wolfsbane that missed his heart by mere inches.  Had he not been rescued by his mother, he would have likely died._

_In observation, Peter Hale and Kyle Hale seem to have “eyes in the back of their heads”.  It is near impossible to “sneak up” on either of them.  With their backs turned, they seem to have developed a new sense of when anything is lurking.  One time I decided to throw a paper ball at Peter, who caught it mid-air without even turning around.  Meanwhile, I can pelt Talia with anything all day long._

_Remarkable, isn’t it?!_

_Not that any of my basic observations are scientific, but it’s something I’ve noted and hope future generations can observe more logically._

_Again, this is all speculation.  We lack the current scientific equipment to truly PROVE any of this.  I’d need a stronger microscope, more test subjects, and at least a research staff of 20 to truly test this properly.  I’d need years, not months._

_Unfortunately, the Nightsbane Report has a deadline of only a handful of years before the funding will run out.  So speed and results must be calculated with each other._

_Still, knowing how brilliant I am, I’m satisfied to relay this information to the Research Group. Zanzibar Zaur was particularly interested in Alpha study.  I know he’s eager for me to tell him what he wants to hear, that werewolves are an actual “disease”, but I’m going to have to break his racist little heart._

_However will I manage?_

_< Audible static cut>_

_Oh, and I suppose this is just a personal matter, but Cee has started dating again.  Not that this is any part of the report, but I enjoy having something to talk to.  Even if it is the thin air and a mechanical recorder…  Eh, I’ll call it background study to cover the costs for the cassettes._

_Anyway, that’s neither here nor their._

_So yes, Cee has FINALLY found herself a beau.  Which, I’m grateful for.  Her last relationship ended poorly, as the asshole just LEFT her after our family died in the house fire.  We lost everyone then, from our grandparents, to our parents, our siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins.  Devastating to both of us, especially Cee who fell into a DEEP depression for months._

_“Too much baggage, I can get myself another gal” is what the bastard actually said to her._

_What an asshole…  As if losing her family was bad enough, just add some salt to the wound!  Yes, that’s wonderful!_

_I’m considering sicking Peter on him.  He’s a young werewolf (Young!  That’s what they call him at about 170!  He even LOOKS like a college student still!  Seriously?  How fair is that?)  who seems all too happy to murder anyone who threatens the Hales or Hale allies._

_I like him, we have the same sick twisted sense of humor.  It infuriates him that I can beat him at chess though.  HA!_

_Anyway that’s neither here nor there.  The boyfriend is a mall security officer who’s working his way through college as a freshman.  Nice enough man, I suppose.  Handsome looking face, though I’m not fond of that punked up blonde hair (all the youth are so REBELLIOUS since the 60’s, had I looked like that, my father would have beaten me senseless).  Cee assures me that this is the “style”, but I’m not all that thrilled.  He looks like one of those damn hippies..._

_Cee hasn’t brought him to dinner or anything, but then again, considering that we’re sharing space with werewolves while we’re running our own independent studies?_

_I don’t blame her.  Humanity’s opinion on werewolves aren’t all that kind._

_Maybe someday I’ll get to meet “Mr. Perfect” (she won’t tell me his name out of fear I’d interrogate him to death)._

_Until then, I’m just glad to see my little sister smile again._


	2. Chapter 2

Mornings hadn’t really changed all that much for the Hale household.  At least, as far as Stiles was concerned. 6 AM was when his brain got wired to wake up, and he tried desperately to untangle his limbs from Derek’s body without waking him.  He had a solid 22.3% success rate.

After getting downstairs, he’d start up the cooking for breakfast.  Even if one of the other denmothers were cooking for a given, it was a challenge cooking for so many.  He didn’t mind assisting, it was a nice bonding moment for him and the other members of the pack.

Still, sometimes, it was nice to have privacy.

Especially after listening to the tape the night before, and especially for a Monday morning.  He had three classes in the afternoon.  Hunter’s History, Combat 302, and Marksmanship.  History would be a breeze, but Combat was always a bitch, and he got sick of everyone being jealous of his accuracy in Marksmanship and dive bombing the curve.  “I’m a Gun-Based Hunter and the son of a Sheriff!  Of course I’m accurate!” he’d tried to explain to little avail.

Though the tape was more on his mind this morning.  

“Noir”

He’d heard that name somewhere, and it was on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to leave his mouth.  It was driving him insane, but he really didn’t know what to make of it.  Despite checking the internet, all he got was a short article about the man on the tapes, Cecil Noir, being found dead in his genetics laboratory about 20ish years ago.    

There went that connection.  

There wasn’t any notice of a “Cee” Noir either.  He’d try and ask Derek to call his mom later, since she’d been mentioned on the tape and might know the woman.  Unsurprising, since the Hales were involved in just about everything werewolf related.

Too much to think about.

Thankfully, that morning, it was his turn to cook.  He had the privacy to think on the name, as well as plotting his strategy for Combat.  Dr. Argent had put him up against a Zaur for that period, and they weren’t pushovers.  

Opting for an “easy” breakfast, Stiles was already reaching for the pancake mix.  He’d fry up some bacon at the same time and finish the cooking off with a huge batch of scrambled eggs.  Jackson would bitch they weren’t sunny side up, but if he WANTED his goddamn sunny side eggs, he can get his boyfriend to cook them himself.

“Mornin’” Danny said.

Stiles tried not to groan out of disappointment.  His private time was gone with nary a farewell.  

Turning around, he saw Danny stretching out in his oversized jersey, barely covering his junk.  He’d gone home with a jock the night before from the club, and wore the damn thing like a trophy.

“Morning.  Can you get the bacon out of the fridge for me?” Stiles asked.

“Got it!  oh, and I’ll need to re-braid your hair for the week,” Danny said, moving over to the industrial sized fridge that any restaurant would be jealous of.

Stiles huffed.  The braid was a freaking pain in the ass.  He was basically Yuna from Final Fantasy X-2, but with better clothes and less length on the braid.  Though if Danny kept forbidding him to cut his hair, he really would get her obnoxious ponytail length.

“Why the hell do you braid that fucking thing every week?  I’m so fucking sick of it by now, just chop the damn thing off!” Stiles whined

His friend plopped down the bacon next to the huge oven burners.  Stiles whined, feeling as Danny began braiding the back of his hair.  

Danny rolled his eyes.  “You hunt monsters and demons on a nightly basis, and then go to school and FIGHT other hunters to get stronger.  It’s a good luck charm, my grandpa always wore it in Vietnam and he made it back home in one piece.  I’d worn it for years, and the ONE time I didn’t, I was nearly decapitated by a Siren,” he explained, finishing off the braid as he tied it off with a black band that had a turquoise bead at the end of it.  Stiles had noted that there was some sort of weird engravings on it.

“I’m practically immortal,” Stiles pointed out.

“Unless they chop off your head,” Danny counted.

“Technicalities,” Stiles said, waving the thought off as he went back to cooking the pack’s breakfast.  He had a busy Monday and wanted to prep his combat uniform.  Stiles was sure he could fit at least six more pistols somewhere.

Danny rolled his eyes.  “Whatever, just wear it!” he spat, patting Stiles on the ass.  “By the way, Jackson and Scott want to talk to you, but had to leave late last night for their patrol night, and they’ve got it again tonight.  Can you meet them Wednesday night in Scott’s bedroom?  They were pretty serious about it,” he explained.

Stiles cocked an eyebrow, reaching into the cabinet for the chocolate chips to add into the batter.  “Scott is NEVER serious.  Is hell freezing over?” he asked jokingly.

“It froze over the second Derek Hale became leader of anything,” Danny joked.  

“As if you really just said that,” Derek bellowed.

Danny and Stiles both jumped, watching a bare chested Derek step inside the kitchen.  He was already on a tablet, searching through hotel planning sites.  Derek didn’t bother hiding the bright red claw marks that covered his back.  Healing hadn’t even started, and the rather brilliant geometric designs looked…

Intentional.

“Morning babe,” Derek said, pressing a kiss onto Stiles’ head.

“Good morning.  That was fun last night, we need to do that some more,” Stiles replied, growling playfully as Derek stole a handful of chocolate chips.

Without much hesitation, Stiles put his arms around Derek’s waist and pulled the two of them together to share a chocolate kiss.

“Oh my God…  What the fuck do you two do in bed?!” Danny screeched, jaw having long since dropped at Derek’s back.

Stiles lifted up from his and Derek’s kiss, shooting a glare at Danny.  “None of your business.  All you need to know is that we’re very creative,” he answered.

“Correction.  STILES is very creative,” Derek said, pecking multiple kisses all over Stiles’ face.  “And I love it,” he said, flashing his white fangs eagerly as he sucked a hickey into his mate’s neck.

Danny rolled his eyes.  “God dammit, KEEP IT IN THE FUCKING BEDROOM LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!  YOU TWO ARE AS BAD AS SCOTT AND JACKSON!” he screeched.

+

Combat class came WAY too early that afternoon.  History had been downright snooze-fest boring, and even the pop quiz had been insulting to their educations.  

So it was with a loud yawn that Stiles stretched out into the air, having changed into his leather black fatigues, alongside his Hunter’s coat.  Standing inside a secluded combat room, with reinforced steel walls and tiled floors, Stiles kept eyeing his opponent across from him.  

Matt Daehler, a trained hunter from the Zaur family.  Unlike Stiles, Matt wore a more conventional Hunter’s garb.  Jeans and a plaid shirt, which he knew was reiforced with some sort of magic hunter bullshit.  

He’d joke about it, but Matt was definitely one of the strongest members in class, and was rumored to be in line to lead the Zaur family.  He was a lancer, bearing the Zaur’s holy weapon, Gungnir.  At least, they called it a holy weapon.  In reality, it was just a wolfsbane and mountain ash forged steel weapon that could cut into wolf skin (or any supernatural being’s skin for that matter) better than anything else in the world.

Oh, and it was also a gun if switched into that mode.  Because that’s fucking practical.

Dr. Argent, a balding man with grey sideburns and a long-since aged physique and lopsided belly, stood between them.

“The usual safety and rules speech,” Gerard said, sighing as he turned to Matt.  “This will be a one on one practice battle with a thirty minute timeline, or until the target object has been destroyed,” he explained.

Stiles glanced down at his target object, also known as his TO.  A glass rose that had been pinned right on his chest, where his heart could be located if it were a life and death match.  Breaking the rose was the object of the practice matches.  It both simulated the act of aiming for a monster’s heart, while also working to provide a tactical and safe target for students to see as the end goal.

“Lethal force is illegal and will result in consulting the authorities.  Regarding your grade, winning does not guarantee you a successful grade.  Your tactics, method of combat, and execution of technique  does.  Fight to the best of your abilities, and REMEMBER.  This is training, Mr. Dahler.  I don’t expect any hospital visits this week,” Gerard said, glaring in Matt’s direction.

Matt scoffed.  “Whatever.  Those plebeians aren’t real hunters if they can’t stand a lance hilt to the face,” he answered.

Gerard rolled his eyes.  “Mr. Stilinski, I look forward to seeing your tactics this week.  Best of luck,” he said, with a much more pleasant smile.

Gerard walked away, patting Stiles on the shoulder as he made his exit.  

When the professor exited the room, a large steel door protected the outside world from their fighting.  Caused a lot less damage as well.  Berkeley was getting pissed off with the constant R&M expenses.

Cameras on the walls came to live, recording their performances.  

“So then…  Teacher’s pet, we finally meet at last in combat class!  I’ve been dying to see how Mr. Top of the Class did things to make the beloved Gerard Argent forget his balls even more than he already did.  God, the Argents have really fallen from Grace.  I’m surprised they’re even treated like Hunters.  They’re just sucking at the werewolf tit at this point,” Matt said, with a sing-song tune.

Stiles gritted his teeth.  

The Zaur students made it obvious how they felt about a werewolf being in a Hunter’s College.  Even the other hunter students weren’t all that thrilled.  He’d climbed to the top of the class and was going to be one hell of a hunter.  Everyone knew it.  He knew it, there was no sense in false modesty.  

He had the support of the Dean and was frequently the guests of the professors’ dinner parties, with Derek as his escort.  The San Fran Police Department were already offering him internships.  Cora wanted him in the FBI.  Peter wanted him as a full time guard for the Hales.

They all knew his potential.

Especially Dr. Argent.  He’d been the one to take Stiles under his wings and show him kindness that no other student in the Hunter’s Department had.  

Not to mention Gerard’s past.  He’d been the one to support the Hales in the werewolf right’s movement, breaking his family’s Code and re-writing it.  With the Argents and the Hales as one, the world became a much safer place from the other bits of Supernatural darkness.  

He was a great man.  

For Matt to call him as such?  It was downright insulting.  

Laughing, Matt slammed his lance into the ground, breaking the tiled flooring and leaving a small crater from the shaft.  “A Werewolf Hunter?  Nothing short of an insult to our kind, and Gerard actually WANTS you to succeed.  You beasts deserve the gallows.  Nothing more, nothing less.  You may be safe today, but some day?  You’ll be hunted just like the rest,” he answered.

Two pistols shot out of Stiles’ sleeves and into his hands.  Emblems of lotus flowers were emblazoned on both.  He switched off the safety and cocked the trigger.

Stiles just bore painful emerald eyes into Matt’s, not saying a word.  

“Ha.  Did I hit a nerve man-bitch?  Or did your ovaries just decide to shed?  AWWW, are you bleeding out your assgin-”

Matt was interrupted, as two bullet flew by his head, leaving two craters on the wall behind him.  Stiles’ pistols were smoking, having been fired in a flash.

“What was that? oh my God, you can’t even hit me right!  What a fucking-” Matt said, cutting himself off as he shivered, jumping away from the wall he’d been sitting at.  

Dozens of vines had erupted from the bullets in the wall, filled with hundreds of sharp thorns.  All of them were going straight for Matt, cut off immediately with Gungnir.  Matt spun his lance in one hand, chopping the vine and thorns into pieces and left into nothing but ash on the ground.  

The bullets fell out of the craters, turning to ash as well.

Taking several potshots towards the To, Stiles grunted as Matt erected a flaming blue barrier, which melted the bullets and powder into nothing but a mush of metal.

Stiles sighed.  “I worked hard on that,” he said, letting both pistols slide back into his cuffs.  Instead, he pulled out two combat knives from his boots.  

Matt roared, dashing across the room with lance in hand, holding it neck-length at Stiles’ angle.  

With his knives, Stiles was able to deflect most of the stabbing motions that Matt was making.  Stiles grunted, Matt was definitely going harder than necessary.  He was in kill mode.

Sparks flew with each and every hit, until Matt’s lance broke one of Stiles’ knives into thousands of pieces.

Taking advantage of the weapon, Matt spun his lance around, throwing the hilt of Gungnir into Stiles’ gut.  

Stiles grunted, feeling as his naval was on FIRE.  Apparently Matt had failed to tell Professor that even the lance’s hilt was lined with wolfsbane.

Jumping backward, Stiles threw his other knife away, pausing momentarily.  He waited as his flesh bubbled and melted, healing quickly under his clothes.  There wasn’t any pain, but the hit to the stomach had given him a low grade nausea.  Frankly, he’d been sick most days for the past two weeks, but that particular hit was about to make him see his breakfast again.

The hand-to-hand combat had made a few things obvious, and he tried to focus on that, rather than his stomach.

“He’s physically stronger than I am, by a longshot.  Faster too.  ‘Bout as fast as Jackson, fuck...” Stiles thought.  

“Aww…  Wolfie giving up already?  What a weak little man-whore.  Have you had your litter yet?  Maybe you should get back in the bedroom, Delta,” Matt mocked.

“But he’s dumb as a brick,” Stiles finished quietly to himself.  

With that, he smiled.

“I actually would love to give up.  You’re really boring.  Can’t see what all the fuss about the Zaurs is.  You’re 90% talk and 10% advanced weaponry that you really can’t handle with any kind of skill.  What a BORE,” Stiles said, laughing quietly to himself.  

Matt’s face lit up angrily.  “You DOGS should know your damn place,” he spat angrily, tightening his grip on Gungnir.  

Slowly, Stiles reached behind his back, snagging the pistol hidden inside of a private pocket that Matt couldn’t see.  He gripped the trigger, slowly sliding the safety off.

“Meh.  Not scary.  Seriously, Derek and I have a little nephew on his family’s side of the family that gave me a harder time.  Oh and he’s a PUP.  No older than FOUR.  How’s that for sad?” Stiles said, with the biggest grin he could manage.

“Take the bait asshole…” he thought to himself.

Matt laughed, spinning his lance around and dashing right forward to Stiles. The spear-end glowed a harsh blue, freezing into solid ice alongside the metallic poison it already was for Stiles.

“FUCK YOU BITCH WOLF!” Matt screeched, swinging the lance like a bat at Stiles.

Stiles smirked.

Drawing out his pistol in his right hand, he flung off his jacket with the other, throwing it at Matt.

Stiles blocked the attack, fitting the lance’s pointed end through the cloth in his coat and engulfing the danger in fabric.  Twisting the coat around, and thanks to the 30 or so pounds of lined padded armor and additional pistols, he pulled the weapon out of Matt’s hands, and flung it across the floor, where it clanged against the fortified steel walls.  Though in that same act, he’d also thrown away his own 60 or so of his own weapons.  

Backing off, Matt kicked off Stiles and dashed for his weapon, sweating furiously under his breath.

Just barely within reach of his lance, Matt saw a bullet lodged into the ground right beside him.

His eyes darkened, watching as glyphs erupted from the bullets.  They crawled over the floor, dancing in an oval until they engulfed the area around him, sealing him inside of circle.  Using Gungnir he’d pulled at the last second, he tried to escape, only to fall backward, bouncing off of an invisible field.

The seal began to glow in a fiery red.  Air in the room got hot, like a low-grade barbeque.

“It’s at this point that I’d usually snap my fingers, letting you get engulfed in a pyroclasm of flames until you’re nothing but ash.  Purifying bullet of flames, my latest invention  Actually, my friend Deaton did most of the work, but I put the powders in the bullets and generated the glyphs,” Stiles said, moving towards the glyph in question.

Stiles pointed his gun at the crystal rose on Matt’s chest.  “Stand still and let me shatter it.  Then you can go,” he said.

Matt’s face fell backwards, twisting into some unseen horror.  His eyes were blown out, bordering on terrified.  “I can’t,” he said, holding up his lance.  Flames danced around the seal, waiting to erupt on Stiles’ command.

“Whatever, I can hit you from this range with a gravity bullet.  Then I’ll just-” Stiles said, flinching as he felt another presence.

Spinning around, he was just in time to see a woman phase through the steel walls.  A mage type hunter, with a long black trenchcoat covering most of her body.  She held a staff in her hands, a long silver rod.

Stiles hitched his breath.  

“Malia Tate?!” he exclaimed.

Malia held her staff out, pointed at Stiles.  “Dance flames, dance!” she commanded.

A line of fire shot out of the ground, in a beam-like structure.  Stiles barely dodged the attack, while still getting nicked on the shoulder by a bit of stray fire.  He backed away, picking up his jacket and pulling it on.  He put away his current pistol, retrieving two from the front inside pockets.  

Focused on Stiles, Malia spun her staff, throwing it into the ground while she held onto the top half.  “Crack the heavens and pierce the sky, come forth sparks of righteous fury!” she shouted.

From her hand, Malia produced  web of lightning which shot straight at Stiles.

Stiles pulled his triggers, shooting into the ground beneath him.  A wall of light erected, where the electricity would evaporate all around him.

“What are you doing?!  This isn’t even your fight!” Stiles shouted, noting as Malia moved protectively over to where Matt was trapped.  She couldn’t break the seal, but was acting as a shield.  

Malia held up her staff.  “I’m not going to let you defeat him.  You’re not going to lay a finger on him, you bloodthirsty monster.  Do you understand me, wolf?” she exclaimed loudly.

Stiles cocked his head.  “Huh?  I’d never ACTUALLY hurt him.  That like goes against everything I stand for.  Even if he is a dick, that’s not enough of a reason to like..  You know…  Do that kind of shit,” he answered.

Hitching her breath, Malia’s eyes flashed if only for a second.

The door to the combat room was thrown open, banging loudly against the steel walls.  Dr. Argent was steaming, and Stiles immediately holstered his weapons, simultaneously removing the seal that had trapped Matt.  It was obvious the training was over.

Gerard stomped towards Matt and Malia.

“Miss Malia, I believe this was a match between Stiles and Matt.  Why did you feel it necessary to intervene?” Dr. Argent asked.

Stiles, still feeling his arm healing from being melted on the top layer of skin, watched her carefully.  Like most of the Zaurs, she had a dead look in her eyes.  

“I apologize Doctor Argent.  It is our family code to protect other members from all things dark and evil.  Mr. Stilinski is a werewolf, who had trapped one of my own  I felt it necessary to intervene, on the basis of our Code of Ethics,” Malia answered, very clinically.

Dr. Argent sighed, clearly fed up.  “This was not a lethal match.  Matt was in no danger, and Mr. Stilinski has never so much as injured another student in combat.  His victories were all won through wit and intelligence.  Much like his match here, where he disarmed Matt,” he explained.

“He was in physical danger of injury.  That is all that matters,” Malia said assertively.

Gerard shook his head  “Both of you.  Out.  Matthew, you receive a failing grade for this class period, for giving into your petty rage, as well as having petty pride get in your way of fighting properly.  You can make it up with Malia tomorrow and I will average your scores.  Malia, you will receive a deduction from your training today for breaking the rules of conduct.  GO,” he said, pointing to the exit.

Assisting her partner out, Malia and Matt quickly exited the room.  Malia had to pick up Gungnir for Matt, and the two jogged away.  

Stiles buttoned his coat, brushing off dust while groaning at the gaping hole Matt had left.  He’d have to buy a new one.  

Gerard turned to Stiles.  “Excellent work today.  You not only managed to defeat Mr. Dahler, but then also fought Miss Tate effectively.  Your wisdom was well seen today, noting Matt’s weakness in his pride and utilizing it.  You’re a fine Hunter, and you’ll go far in this world.  Today’s score will be 98 out of 100,” he explained.

Saluting, Stiles bowed to Gerard.  “Thank you sir.  May I ask why there was a two point deduction?” he asked.

A small grin colored Gerard’s face.  “A true hunter should never throw their weapons away,” he answered, chuckling at some joke that Stiles wouldn’t understand for months to come.

+

It had been hours.  Malia had brought Matt back to their apartment downtown, and the sun was already setting.  Yet still, Matt hadn’t calmed down.  

Gungnir had destroyed practically everything in the room as Matt came home in a violent rage.  Though as he settled, the rage was replaced with his usual mood at the end of a mission.

Matt was shivering, trembling in the corner of his room, covered in feathers from when he’d destroyed his pillows.  He held on to his TO and a stuffed bear tightly, sobbing like a child.  

Malia was above him, trying to rub his head and sooth him.

“Matthew, it’s over.  You didn’t lose your TO or be declared a loser.  You’ll have a rematch.  You’re going to live…  I promise, you’re going to live,” Malia said, trying hard not to cry or freak out herself.  Matt needed her to stay strong.  They’d swap roles later.

“If I’d lost to that…  That… THING I….” Matt sobbed, wiping the tears from his face.

“Master Snow would have killed you.  Code of Zaur Ethics says that there are no second chances.  Any and all failures to the darkness of the world are to be met with execution,” Malia replied dully.  

Matt hugged Malia’s leg, crying into it.

“Those fucking beasts…  If..  If they didn’t exist, we wouldn’t have to live in this world!  In Snow Zaur’s world!  They all need to DIE!  Then we can LEAVE!” he screamed, gripping his TO until it shattered into a million pieces.  

Malia glanced away.  

“Huh?  I’d never ACTUALLY hurt him.  That like goes against everything I stand for”

The wolf’s words kept echoing in her ears.  They’d been so kind, so genuine.  Warm.  

“Malia Tate, Matt Dahler.  If either of you fail me in this assignment, your life is forfeit.”

Master Snow’s words echoed alongside the wolf’s.  In comparison, Master Snows’ was lifeless, so bitter.  Cold, like ice.

“Matt…  You’re safe now,” Malia said, kneeling down and helping her friend through the latest panic attack.  She’d gotten used to it.  

All of the Zaurs…  Got used to it.

Malia shook her head.  “Let’s just focus on what we’re here for.  Once Operation Snowfall is complete, we can move on in our lives,” she whispered.

Bordering on seizure-like trembling, Matt nodded.  

+++++

_Nightsbane Report : B is for Beta / O is for Omega_

_Ha!  I’ve finally figured this stupid thing out.  See CEE!  I do know what I’m doing with this ridiculous machinery._

_< A slow, sarcastic clap is heard in the background.>_

_CEE SHUT UP.  THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT MOMENT IN MY LIFE!_

_< Static Cut>_

_Considering the sampling of test subjects, I had to unfortunately skip the true order I wanted my research to follow.  In a perfect world, I would research the were classification in the order they were presented in the Greek Alphabet.  Unfortunately, that is not the case._

_Though I shouldn’t complain.  I was given two subjects, a Beta and Omega wolf, to fully test on.  They were…  There were corpses, you see.  Corpses that were fresh, and still attempting to heal themselves back to life.  All of their vital organs were still operational, but their minds were long gone.  Interesting find, really.  I’m surprised Zaur could get such things._

_I’m not sure how Zaur managed to provide me with these kind of subjects, but…  He was very adamant that I use them.  Argent as well…  Even the Hales provided no objections._

_I did ask how they managed to find such excellent corpses for autopsy._

_None answered._

_So…  I did my testing (as minimally invasive as possible, out of respect for the families and the future funeral rites), and the results were…_

_Very underwhelming._

_Both Betas and Omegas contained a similar cellular structure as an Alpha.  Meaning that they’re naturally able to heal themselves thanks to their mitochondrial abnormality .  Not surprising.  This only confirms my theory that all werewolves have the same basic structure, only with key differences between their classifications that make them unique from one and other._

_The differences, I’d summize, was in the DNA and is made at point of conception.  Until I have a werewolf willing to undergo tests before, during and after conception, I doubt I’ll be able to determine that fully._

_I digress._

_Beta werewolves seemed to have an altered muscle and bone tissue.  They were much stronger than that of an Alpha, thanks to thicker cell walls.  This seems to suit their role as “guardians” of the pack, having much more durable bodies and a stronger skin to withstand cuts and injuries._

_Their noses and ears also seemed to have additional segments to them that I’ve never seen before in a human.  Talia (the Alpha subject) offered herself to have x-rays performed to compare, and I also checked the Omega’s as well._

_They all had these same “extra bits”, though the Beta’s was the largest (nearly doubled in size)._

_I theorize that these parts aid in scent and hearing advancements for tracking, though I cannot prove that at this moment._

_I’ll add this to the additional tests that I do after this research agreement has concluded.  I’m curious if it’s possible to transplant these parts into deaf humans in order to bring back hearing.  The evolutionary differences between man and werewolf are truly astonishing and worth identifying!  Just think of how perfect we could be..._

_Again, I digress._

_Now, onto the other subject._

_After autopsy, I was surprised that Omega werewolves, on the other hand, showed no scientific differentiation other than the typical werewolf cell structure, and the additional parts in the nose and ears._

_No…  Nothing._

_For all intents and purposes, they were just a human body with better smelling, hearing, and an ability to heal injuries._

_I was surprised.  Because frankly, the entire point of this research was to find the differences between the classes._

_Are not all werewolves different?_

_I was frightened for a bit, seeing as our entire research was based on this theory._

_Thankfully, my sister Cee was able to  bring some new facts to light, while also making me cocoa and calming me down from a panic attack._

_In her own experiments, while utilizing her druid magic that runs in my family’s veins, she saw that the mind and body of an Omega was resistant to all brands of magic.  Even in death, the omega corpse was able to reflect Cee’s magic from their body and destroy our bookshelves in the process._

_All types of magic were essentially immune.  Healing, elemental, dark, illusionary, and everything else Cee could think of._

_In a way, Omegas are another shield in the werewolf community.  While Betas shield the pack’s body, the Omegas shield the pack from magic and manipulation._

_Based on interviews with the Hale family, this might explain why Omegas are considered “free” wolves.  They are not bound to an Alpha’s orders, which Cee says is similar to a magical Geas used by Celtic Shamen, and often distance themselves from pack activities to maintain their independence._

_According to Cee, this has something to do with her Werewolf Theory of Origin.  In the old legends of Fenrir, it was told that the God Wolf refused to be around any but his God Masters that created him.  That part of his personality was to be that of a lone wolf, never making friends with other magical beings.  In conjunction, Fenrir was told to be immune to all brands of magic, silencing the Demonic magic he faced with a mighty roar._

_I don’t know about all of that, but considering I have nothing else to add, I was pleasantly  happy to have at least something to present to the Research Committee._

_Definitely owe Cee a dinner.  Somewhere nice, I haven’t done anything for her lately.  Then again, that beau of hers takes up most of her free time these days._

_< Static Cut>_

_Apparently, on a personal note, the Research Committee is not fond of me.  At least, the Zaurs and the Argents aren’t.   The Hales are nice enough._

_Gerard, the head of the Argent Family, is mildly more tolerable than Zanzibar.  He wants the same things Zaur wants, but actually has a brain._

_I suppose this problem stems from the whole point of the research._

_The Zaurs, Hales and Argents are currently under a ceasefire agreement.  An independent third party (that would be my sister and I) are tasked with determining the “danger” of the werewolf population.  The idea came from Miss Talia Hale, a Hale family branch Alpha who’s looking to become the next head of the family.  She assures the Hunter families that they are NOT dangerous and only want to live in quiet seclusion from the rest of the world until they’re truly ready to live symbiotically with each other._

_I know what the Argent and Zaur families really wanted._

_They wanted me to say that Alphas are a danger to us all and therefore MUST be hunted and eliminated? Maybe that the werewolf bite is actually a virus?  Which I would know nothing about, that’s Cee’s brand of research, to be honest._

_When I offered the findings of my research, they were none too pleased._

_They were pissed about the Alphas, and then were LIVID when I compared Omegas to regular humans._

_Zaur nearly broke my jaw when I refused to tell him what he wanted to hear._

_At least Argent listened to what I had to say.   He wasn’t happy, but was at least open minded enough to realize that there’s more to all of this than just good versus evil.  I think in the long run, it’s going to be Gerard that actually keeps his part of the treaty.  No way in hell will Zanzibar keep his word._

_Betas and Omegas…  One just has extensive muscle and bone density, while the other is immune to magic.  Even less of a threat than they would have otherwise thought.  Ha…  I can just picture the storm in their mind after hearing that.  They must be fuming!_

_< There is an audible pause>_

_I suppose..  I suppose that’s just the way it is.  Not much I can do to please them.  I’m certainly not going to lie.  That goes against everything I believe in._

_< A loud sigh escapes Cecil’s lips>_

_Oh, and Cee is still dating that beau of hers.  She, unfortunately, cannot reveal our real nature to him or what we’re even doing in Beacon Hills._

_Which, speaking of, I doubt that Cee will come back to Chicago with me when this is all over.  She’s in LOVE with this town, and everything in it._

_Cee has always been the social one between the two of us.  So naturally, everyone in town knows who she is, and there isn’t a person we pass that doesn’t have a 10 minute conversation with her.  Just the other day, she and a nurse talked for THREE HOURS at the local coffee shop, when we were just supposed to be picking up to-go orders for breakfast and get back to research._

_Not that I’d ever complain to her._

_I know that kills her on the inside, because she has to visibly lie to her new friends and beau about who she is and what she does for a living,  but it’s really for the best.  Especially depending on how our research goes, and how Zaur has been acting lately._

_I’m beginning to regret agreeing to work on this.  Three powerful families, all which might have a vendetta against us someday for what we find._

_A vendetta against us, and possibly even our children._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the gap in updates. If you follow my other work, you'll see that I've been getting "Overcoming Me" a lot of updates. Generally, I write what I feel like on a daily basis, and for the last while, that's been Overcoming Me. 
> 
> Though I haven't forgotten about this fic! Promise! :)


	3. Chapter 3

In the Hale Townhouses, the second floor apartment bedroom belonged to Jackson and Scott.  The second the two got there, it wasn’t even a QUESTION that they would share a room.  

So the neat half, with modern furniture, their expensive television set, and closet full of clothes naturally belonged to Jackson.  On the other side, with the movie and band posters and the countless video games and books scattered all over the place, was Scott’s.  

Dead in the center was their bed, the only thing that accurately portrayed what they saw in each other.

Unlike Jackson’s side, the bed was messy and covered in home-sewn blankets from granny McCall.  Though instead of Scott’s side, the foundation was strong, modern and unbreakable.

Hovering in the room after a long day at school, Jackson couldn’t help wonder how his life had changed so much.

Looking at his body in the mirror, it was definitely not the same body he’d left Beacon Hills with.  It was…  It was definitely him now.  Living in a town where nobody knew him certainly helped him come out of his shell.

Without sports or gym days, his muscle had bubbled down to just minor abs and a slender figure with bony hips and a non-existent ass that he could never really change.  He was more twink than jock, and his more volumed and styled hair seemed to support that.  Though the nipple rings (a surprise for his and Scott’s 3rd year anniversary) were probably more indication of that.

His wardrobe had gone from Armani to casual shirts and jeans, bordering on “punk”.  Comfortable clothes he actually liked wearing and to hell if they were in style.  Bands he liked proudly displayed, rather than kept in the closet.  Not to mention a geometric patterned tattoo he’d gotten inked on his shoulder and was HAPPY to show off in tank season.

Probably his favorite change, however, was his stark naked boyfriend, Scott, splayed out with his ass in the air.  He was reading his latest werewolf romance novel that Hunter had finished writing, while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the TV.  Both were too good to put down.  

Jackson smirked, stripping off his own shirt and jeans, leaving himself in just a pair of tight black briefs.  He loved the way Scott looked at him, and took good notice of Scott in turn.  

McCall had changed just about as much as he had.  Then again, being in San Francisco meant that a lot of small-town gay taboos could go fuck themselves.  As such, Scott indulged himself with a few studded earrings, and a bar piercing for his dick.  He was definitely staying in shape at the gym, and hadn’t let his lacrosse muscles go to waste.  Then there was also the Hale pack tattooed on his back, just like the one Derek had.  He knew he was hot shit, and Jackson LOVED his more confident lover.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m going to think you’ve got a crush on me.  Because, you know, I’m the hottest girl in school, if you recall correctly,” Scott said with a playful smile.  

Jackson rolled his eyes.  “You will never NOT love that compliment, will you?” he asked.

Scott grinned.  “Nope!” he said, smiling even brighter as Jackson rolled onto the bed next to him.

Sighing, Jackson used Scott’s shoulder as a pillow.  “When’s Stiles getting back?  We’ve GOT to ask him about the pup and…  Well, the other thing,” he mumbled.

Scott’s face dropped.  “I’m telling you Jacks, we wait on the other thing.  At least, until after Stiles and Derek have pups all their own.  Asking Stiles to be our surrogate is pretty…  Early,” he replied, pulling their quilt over the two of them.  

“He needs time to THINK.  I mean, Stiles says he wants kids after he gets out of school.  We want kids at the same time.  I want him to have plenty of time to think about it.  Do you REALLY want to go through a stranger?  One that might keep OUR pups?” Jackson asked.

Huffing, Scott shook his head.  “No, and…  You’re right about that, but I just…  Jacks, he’s my friend.  The whole pregnancy thing is still funky with him.  I mean, after that Amos dude tried to turn him into a baby factory, it’s…  It’s hard to talk about,” he replied.  He pulled Jackson closer, pressing a kiss on his cheek.  

Jackson pouted.  “So you want to wait MORE?  We’ve been having this talk for a year now.  I…  I want to know!  Either that, or we need to talk about adopting again!  One or the other, but I…  I know we’re both wanting to get this plan down 100%.  Either on is going to be  pain in the ass getting planned in just two years,” he answered.

“I know, I just…  I’m trying to keep the two loves of my life happy.  My boyfriend and my brother.  One I’ve known my whole life, and the other one sexes me up and makes my brain turn to mush when I think about him kissing me,” Scott whined, pressing his lips on Jackson’s nibbling them playfully.  

“Not fair.  No using those fucking bullshit lips of yours to get out of this,” Jackson said, not taking his own words to heart as he started kissing back, involving the slightest bit of tongue in the process.

Scott grinned.  “Well, if you don’t like that, I could always use OTHER bodily parts to-”

Scott’s reply was interrupted as their bedroom door swung open, and both men whined as they knew their fun times were going to have to wait a bit.  Stiles shut it behind him, landing flat on the bed behind Scott and Jackson.  He wasn’t a stranger to Scott and Jackson’s room and made himself comfortable as he chucked off his hole-ridden hunter coat and kicked off his shoes in the corner.

“I take it class was hard today?  Dr. Argent have you running training drills again?” Scott asked.

Stiles grumbled incoherently into the covers.  

“Did you fall in the mud pit again?” Jackson asked.

Another loud grumble escaped the mattress from Stiles’ general direction.

“Oh, the electric fence.  OUCH.  Well that sucks.  Sorry,” Jackson replied.

Leaning up, Stiles made himself comfortable next to Scott, glancing at the covers.  His face fell, groaning in the process.  “You’re not wearing clothes are you?” he asked.

“Shut up and let me be naked!” Scott said, shoving Stiles.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles rolled to the head of the bed, away from his naked friend.

“Whatever tarzan, you wanted to talk?  What’s with the hush-hush, couldn’t this have waited until the pack meeting on Friday?” Stiles asked.

Jackson and Scott exchanged nervous glances.

“If we’d told anyone else..  They wouldn’t believe us.  So you’re basically the only one we could go to,” Scott explained.

Stiles raised an eyebrow.  “Okay…” he anwered.

Jackson took a deep breath.  “We were tracking a feral a couple of nights back, hoping to corner it to take it down humanely.  When we finally did track it down..  It was…  It was in a cave with..  Other ferals,” he finally spat out.

Stiles blinked a few times, awestruck.

“Working…  With the other ferals,” Jackson finished.

After a few minutes of stunned silence, Stiles turned to face Scott.  “Did you knot his brains out again?  Because the last time you two had a sex-a-thon weekend, you made Jackson forget that red was a color,” he said.

Scott groaned.  “We’re SERIOUS Stiles.  The feral was in a cave, WORKING with other ferals.  There were hunters, gatherers and guards!” he exclaimed.

Stiles snorted.  “Guys, Ferals do NOT work together.  Once the brain goes feral, all the wolf cares about is survival.  Working together is not something they can do after that, it’s not a brain function they even HAVE anymore,” he said.

“Cue why we called YOU Mr. Fancy Hunter,” Jackson said, smacking him on the back of the head.  

“Well what did you want me to do?  Just euthanize the ferals!  Did you seriously let them live just so you could tell me about this?” Stiles asked.

Jackson and Scott shared concerned looks.

“There was…  A pup with them.  A…  A non-feral pup,” Scott finally admitted.

Stiles’ eyes blew up.  “There’s a what in the where with the who now?” he asked nervously.

Jackson nodded.  “We were about to attack them, when the ferals…  Wrapped up and started sleeping with a little kid after feeding him what they’d hunted.  He couldn’t have been more than like 7 or 8,” he said.

“THERE’S A WHAT?!  ARE YOU TWO STUPID?!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!  SCOTT SHUT UP AND DON’T BE NAKED!” Stiles shrieked, shaking both their bodies rapidly.  

Scott sighed.  “Dude, we’ve had one of Ethan’s illusions watching him constantly.  The ferals don’t do anything to him.  If anything, the ferals are…  Protecting him.  They bring him food, water, and all sorts of weird things like toys and blankets.  He’s safe for the time being and gives us time to think about a plan.  Which…  Brings us back to YOU,” he said, poking Stiles in the nose.  “You’re a hunter.  You know stuff that we don’t and have all kinds of training that might be able to help us WITHOUT getting that kid murdered.  You know as well as I do the Argent and Zaur hunters would kill the kid, just figuring he’s a feral bite waiting to happen, if not already a feral” he explained.

Stiles didn’t waste any time, hopping off the bed.  “Even so, this is insane!  Poor kid..  I’m getting Derek, hang on just a-”

“No!” Jackson and Scott said in unison, grabbing Stiles before he could get very far.  

“What?!  He’s our Alpha and my fiance, I’ve got to tell him,” Stiles retorted.

“Not a chance,” Jackson said, shaking his head.  “It’s because he IS our Alpha.  He’d be forced into action since this is his territory.  It’d be a bloodbath,” he explained.

Stiles groaned, rubbing his forehead.  “So…  I can’t tell Derek, the police, or anyone…  You mean it’s just us three and Ethan that know about this?!” he screamed.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just..  I mean it’s a kid.  You know how much we want kids someday, so…  I guess it hit close to home,” Jackson replied.

Scott rolled his eyes.  “So subtle Jackson,” he thought.

“Yeah…  Yeah I get why you did it,” Stiles replied, taking a deep breath.  Reaching down to grab his coat, Stiles started looking for his shoes.  “Come on…  Show me.  We’re getting Ethan, scouting this shit, and SCOTT GET DRESSED,” he ordered.

Stiles stormed out of the room, throwing his jacket back on and grabbing his shoes in the process.

+

Stiles was going to have to get his eyes checked.  Hanging out a fair distance away (atop a tree with the wind blowing in the opposite direction) with Jackson, Scott and Ethan, the binoculars he’d brought along gave him a perfect view of the cave they’d been talking about.

“This…  This cannot be real,” Stiles said, putting down the binoculars and wiping his eyes.  

Sure enough, just like Scott and Jackson had said, there was a family of ferals living inside the cave.  20 full grown wolves the size of small cars, and…

A small child with sandy blonde hair uncut for many years and tattered rags of clothes that hung off his body lifelessly.  The biggest wolves seemed to be constantly hovering over the child, as though they were alphas of the pack, protecting their pup.  He looked like he was eating discarded burgers from McDonalds.

This was…  This was unheralded.  Unheralded and sad as fuck.

But VERY useful.

“As a college student, I feel the need to document this and turn it in as a thesis.  Take pictures, write a book, shove it up that pretentious Dr. Reed’s asshole.  Then I should-”

“STILES!” Scott and JAckson whispered loudly, while Ethan slapped him upside the head.

“Fine, fine, I can write about this later, but…  Seriously, Ferals aren’t supposed to behave this way.  It’s like they’ve got a part of their humanity left…  Some instinct that overrides the need to kill and survive.  Like their brain lobes still function to a degree,” Stiles muttered.

“Could we reason with them?” Scott asked, rather naively.  

Stiles thought for a moment, until he turned to Ethan.  “Can you make an illusion for me?  Have it go down there and try to have it talk to them,” he requested.

Ethan nodded.  He waved a hand, and an exact copy of Ethan came out of thin air, appearing on the ground  The illusion jogged forward, making it to the cave’s entrance, where the wolves all came to attention, growling at the fake.

“Well, that’s a good sign, they didn’t-”

Scott’s optimism was short lived.  No less than 12 wolves sprung out all at once, and jumped on the illusion Ethan.  They ripped its arms off, tore into its chest and destroyed every ounce of flesh in a fury of fur.  WAY stronger than a feral should be.  Ethan’s illusions weren’t pushovers, they were just as strong as he was.

“Yeah, that’s a big ol’ nope then,” Scott said, turning away as Ethan let the illusion vanish into dust.  

Stiles rubbed his chin, thinking for several moments.  “Definitely ferals then.  Going in for any of us would be suicide.  Even me and my healing would just be re-triggered constantly, and I’d end up losing limbs or bleeding to death.  We’re strong, but not that strong,” he whispered quietly.  

“Considering only one of them took down an entire bear last time with just a single bite, yeah, I’d say you’re probably right,” Jackson said, shaking his head.  

“So then how do we do this?” Scott asked, glancing at the child and cringing on the inside.

Stiles sighed.  “I don’t have any idea,” he explained, huffing.

“Here I thought you were a A+ hunter?” Jackson growled.

“Not what I’m saying,” Stiles said, shaking his head.  “What I need is more data.  Movement patterns, if the kid is ever left alone, and their general hunting grounds,” he answered, folding his arms.

Ethan, Jackson and Scott all stared, watching as Stiles’ entire face and voice changed.  The atmosphere was…  Strong.

“Our objective is the kid, the ferals are just a distraction.  Once the kid is in our hands, we can focus on the wolves.  In fact, we could probably have hunters on standby.  I’ve got a friend who can help us.  She’s second in the class and specializes in long range combat and explosives.  I’d trust her with this,” Stiles explained.

“So rescue the kid then euthanize the ferals?  Simple enough, but uh…  How do we keep an eye on them?” Scott asked.

Ethan grinned, patting Scott on the shoulder.  “Leave that part to me!” he answered, waving his hand again.  Several illusionary copies of himself appeared in the tree with them.  “Give them your smartphones and they can record all the data you need.  I’m hooked up with them mentally too, so I’ll know what they know if anything happens, easily,” he explained.

Stiles hugged Ethan around the neck.  “You are the BEST!  Can I uh..  Can I get some photos for my thesis when this is all over too?  Like nothing big, just-”

They all smacked Stiles on the back of the head.  “FINE, I’ll watch them tonight.  GEEZ, Academia is more cut throat then I think you guys realize,” he grumbled angrily.

Putting back up his binoculars, Stiles noted that the wolves who’d attacked Ethan’s illusion seemed to be…  Shrinking.  Their muscle mass went back down to the size that a feral SHOULD be.  Like a stimulation wearing off and-

Stiles’ eyes blew out in a mixture of fear for the child and for his pack..  

“Gamma,” Stiles realized.

+

“Newfound theories regarding human/werewolf cell genetics have come to fruition.  Dr. Kendrick Hale, having taken her research to the European Union, has confirmed that cross-cell implantation is possible, giving humans werewolf recovery time without the bite.  Human studies with willing participants have seen all disease virtually eradicated within their bodies.  

Snow Zaur, outraged by the news, has demanded that the United Nations sanction and arrest Dr. Hale for her “sinful” research.  To which, French government representatives have stated that they will not acknowledge any and all attempts at Dr. Hale’s arrest or extradition.  Several extremists of the Neo-Human movements claims that any unwarranted attacks on Dr. Hale will be met with terroristic retaliation.

To the Zaur family, it was said that-

A ringing doorbell brought a young woman’s mind to attention, glancing away from the news report.  She shifted her long brown hair out of her face, and standing up from her family’s living area. The woman brushed off her brown leather skirt and fluffed her turquoise blouse.  

“I’ve got it dad!” she called out, racing over to the door.  After checking the peephole, she smiled and swung open the door.  “STILES!” she exclaimed, hugging his neck tightly.

“Allison, always a pleasure!  My you’re looking radiant as always, I could just-”

Letting go of her hug, Allison groaned and interrupted Stiles.  “Oh great, THIS can’t be good,” she remarked.

Stiles pouted.  “Oh shut up, I’ve got something BIG for you to check out.  Like I’m talking BIG BIG and I need your help,” he admitted.

“Really now?  Is it as remarkable as your petrification bullet that you nearly shot yourself with when it backfired?” Allison asked.

“ONE TIME AS A FRESHMAN AND I’M BRANDED FOR LIFE!” Stiles shouted, rolling his eyes.  He grabbed Allison by the hand and escorted her out the door.  “Come on, you’ll thank me later!” he exclaimed.

As they walked out of the door, several snowflake flurries escaped inside of the house from the cascading flakes from the sky, melting as they struck the hardwood floor into a pale grey water.

+

_D is for Delta_

_Okay, the red light is on…  I’ve put in a CLEAN tape…  Oh you blasted piece of shit, I’m going to-_

_< Static Cut>_

_The past four months has been a mixture of frustration and joy as I’m FINALLY ready to compile my report on the Delta werewolf._

_From mere physical observation and X-rays, it’s clear that the Delta’s primary purpose is to bear multiple children at once for the pack.  So much so that even the male Deltas possess a reproductive system as well._

_Based on interviews and discussions with werewolves, this is primarily due the early days of werewolves.  Apparently, of the 26 living werewolves at the time of origin, 200 children were fathered by the single male Delta, which gave way to 26 different werewolf families that govern the underground world._

_It is said that Deltas are rare these days, because the “need” for breeding is not as urgent as it once had been.  It’s said that they are only born in a time when they’re required by the werewolf community._

_Though I suppose lore isn’t the point of these reports, but SOMEONE gets her feelings hurt when I don’t put in her research at the committee meetings!_

_< The sound of a woman’s irritated voice and a high heel being flung across the room>  _

_Right, back to science  Because science is good and it’s what pays our bills..._

_The female Delta reproductive system is virtually unchanged from the human female system, with only one pertinent difference that I’ll explain later_

_As for male Deltas, the anus acts as the vagina, with a unique male uterus that can receive sperm in the same manner as the female.  With that in mind, the Anus of the Male Delta is more elastic and can support birth in the same way as a woman’s vagina can without excessive tearing.  Or at least, no more than a woman would undergo._

_Now, regarding the “difference” I mentioned earlier with the female Deltas, which also apply to the male Deltas..._

_Surprisingly enough, the Delta “eggs” inside of the males and females (who can produce upwards of 10 or more impregnable eggs at one time), do not “close” as the human female eggs do when met with sperm._

_When observed under a microscope, I was shocked to find that the Delta eggs do not “accept” all sperm.  Rather, it seems as though they wait for the strongest genetic specimen (I assume), and only then will the two combine.  Furthermore, it seems as though if no genetic specimen is found, that the egg would rather die than consummate._

_With that in mind, I theorized that Deltas could potentially have multiple fathers in regards to their litter._

_The time period that the egg is “open” seems to last between 6 and 12 hours of being introduced to sperm from the knotting process of werewolf reproduction.  So, assuming that the Delta had more than one partner, it would be safe to assume that each egg could choose a different father, increasing the likelihood of an acceptable genetic specimen_

_When I brought this up to Talia Hale, a frequent guest of my sister’s, she explained that this is TRUTH.  Because same-sex relationships are fairly common in werewolf culture, Talia explained that Deltas are often surrogates to the pack in order to provide children for those who cannot.  In fact, it was once common and expected for Deltas to bear children for all of the pack._

_She explains the practice is “hopelessly outdated”, and hasn’t been practiced in over 400 years.  Though she explained that Delta surrogates are still popular with homosexual male werewolves (or for female werewolves that cannot bear children for her male mate), given that they can provide both fathers with children of their own lineage.    The service usually runs for $50,000, and the Delta in question is permitted to be involved in the child’s life._

_To which, as a man living in the late seventies, is an INSANE amount of money.  I’d rather be ALONE than shell out that kind of cash!”_

_< Audible gasp of horror and disgust from Cee in the background.  The other high heel is thrown, breaking several beakers>  _

_Though I must admit that it’s not the birthing and child rearing that interests me…_

_No, it’s the cellular structure of the Delta cells.  It’s a most fascinating find._

_You see, unlike the other specimens that I’ve observed, it seems as though Deltas are capable of hyper-healing!  Hyper healing, which if utilized and cultured properly could actually…_

_…_

_< There is an audible pause.>_

_No, I’d rather not say.  My sister is working on the second phase of the Delta research, I don’t want to theorize until I have more facts._

_Too much… Too much false hope if it’s not true._

_I’ll cut that last part out later._

_< Static Cut>_

_There’s been a bit of a…  Difficulty, I suppose, in my relationship with the research committee.  They’re bringing in an “expert” of the Zaur family.  His name is Dr. Clovis, and he’s apparently a member of the Zaur Mage Elimination Unit._

_From what I hear, the man is a master of magic, on par with legendary heroes of the past._

_His purpose is to “observe” and conduct experiments of his own with the specimens and volunteers we are provided, though I suspect the man is here to “observe” us._

_I spoke with him on the phone for a few moments, and IMMEDIATELY my blood turned cold.  He’s got this..  This really disturbing vibe about him._

_He asked if I still had the corpses of the Omega and Beta healing, and if he could sever an arm to try and trigger a regrowth to observe the magic._

_“Okay”, I said to myself.  He’s a little nutty, but that’s…  Well, that’s at least got a scientific purpose._

_Then he had the GALL to ask about the Delta specimen, and if I was through with it.  He said he had “plans” to try and grow a child inside the corpse, believing that the body could be used to generate countless classes of werewolves to study.  Saying that the 26 MUST be observed in flawless detail, from womb to death._

_…_

_The man is SICK.  We, as scientists and mages, have ETHICS.  What he’s proposing is disrespectful._

_I called Argent and told him the man was NOT to step foot in my house, and that he and the Zaurs could get him his own lab and his own specimens, because I was NOT going to let him anywhere near mine!_

_< Heavy breathing as the rage subsides>_

_…_

_I…  I’m sorry.  I’m in a bad mood as it is now, and he tipped me over the edge._

_< Silence>_

_Cee…  Cee’s been seeing her beau for half a year now, and they’re talking about getting serious._

_She says the man is working a lot of overtime, and that she rarely gets to see him anymore.  The beau says he’s just “saving up” for their future._

_To which, as a man, I know exactly what that little asshole is doing._

_He’s saving up for a ring, and he hasn’t even MET me yet!_

_Not that I’m one of those insane men who thinks that a daughter (or in my case, a younger sister) need permission to have her hand be taken in marriage, BUT THE LEAST THE BLOND FUCKER COULD DO IS TRY TO MEET HER FAMILY FIRST!_

_I mean REALLY!_

_All I know is that the man’s name is John, and he’s trying to be a cop._

_HE COULD BE A SERIAL MURDERER FOR ALL I KNOW!_

_HE COULD BE AN INSANE MAGE TRYING TO STEAL MY SISTER’S SOUL FOR EVIL DARK-SUMMONING RITUALS!_

_I’M LOSING MY BABY SISTER AND NOBODY CARES!_

_< Loud huffing and breathing to calm down>_

_…_

_Goddamnit…  Mom, dad…  Why’d you have to leave us?  Why’d you all have to leave us?_

_Your baby girl has met the man she’s going to marry…  And..  You’re not here to see her._

_…_

_< Soft sobbing>_

_I’ll…  I’ll…  I’ll make sure…  I’ll make sure she’s happy.  For the both of you, I’ll make sure she has…  The most beautiful wedding of all time._

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

What seemed like a month passed by as Stiles and his group observed the feral pack.  Ethan had been getting them visual data, compiling it into videos that Danny would edit together to allow for comparative studies.  Jackson and Scott took over guard duty for the Hale pack, ensuring that nobody got too close to the ferals, and that the ferals didn't get too close to the local population, and that the still-sane pup was going to get eaten.

Though at long last, the weekend to strike was upon them.

Which is why Stiles had spend the better part of an hour upchucking in the bathroom, as his stomach did backflips.

"All done in there?  Jesus, this is why we don't let Scott cook," Jackson grumbled, glancing up from the carefully crafted 3D layout in the downstairs basement. Really, it was just a map of the local forest, but with chess pieces atop it to represent the 23 feral wolves, the 1 child, and the six of them.  Allison had even gone so far as to make fake trees and obstacles, to give it a genuine look as to what they could expect.  

"HA HA," Scott said, backhanding his mate across the head, while the rest of them chuckled.

Stiles rolled his eyes.  "Nah, it's just a stomach bug.  I've had it since that asshole Dahler whacked me with the wolfsbane lance of his," he grumbled.  Hovering over the map, Stiles turned to Danny and Ethan.  "Okay..  So you two say you know when the best time to attack is?" he asked.

Ethan nodded immediately, grabbing at the chess pieces and re-arranging them so that only the pup and five feral pieces were standing at the cave.  "Most of the pack goes hunting at around 2 AM, when most of the local humans are sleeping.  That's when they go dumpster diving, look for supplies, and hunt fresh game," he answered.

"Supplies?" Allison asked, tilting her head curiously.

Danny rubbed the back of his head.  "Yeah, it's the damndest thing.  They actually look for stuff like blankets and toys for the pup.  Sometimes they even get him stuff like books and study materials from the local elementary school's trash bins," he said.

Allison and Stiles shared a worried glance.  

"Ferals shouldn't be able to have that level of thinking.  I know I'm sounding like a broken record here, but...  This really should be something we bring to my grandfather," Allison offered.

Stiles shook his head.  "Allison, you know what would happen.  The hunters would storm in over the fear of so many ferals in one location, and we KNOW one of them is a Gamma, so they'd hulk out and kills all of them.  Nothing good would come out of that.  You'd have WAY too many dead hunters, and the pup might be injured.  Not going to happen.  That pup is coming home with ME.  Got it?" he said, a little more aggressive than was probably necessary.

Damn Delta protective instinct.  His male ovaries were SCREAMING at him to save the pup.  Everything else was secondary, which was why his stomach had to deal with Scott cooking more often, and why he'd been upchucking constantly.  He felt nauseous at the thought of that poor pup just staying in that cave, probably scared to death.  All he could do was focus 100% on the mission before him, letting denmother duties fall to his friends.

Sighing, Allison nodded.  "I know, but...  I think Grandpa might let us do our own thing, and MAYBE know something about all of this," she offered.

"Besides, isn't Gerard Argent the one who massacred like a million innocent werewolves before the Noir Alliance was made?  I seriously doubt Stiles is going to trust him," Jackson spat hatefully.

Allison's head and gut shrunk, like she'd been kicked in her non-existent balls.

"JACKSON," Stiles growled, shooting his friend an incredulous glare.

Clearing his throat, Scott got between Jackson and Stiles, pointing to the board.  "Yeah, so, changing the subject, I'm guessing we're going to attack at 2 AM then?" he asked.

"Correct," Allison said, stepping forward and putting a circle of white chess pieces around the cave, as well as a clear salad bowl.  "The plan is simple.  Once the feral pack has disbanded for the night to go hunting, I'll utilize a silence aria," she said.

"A what?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow.

Stiles turned to his buddy.  "Aria.  It's the hunter term for a spell, magic, rune, summoning, whatever.  They come in dozens of types and can be combined together.  Werewolves can't use magic, so it's not something we'd expect you to know," he explained.

"Right," Allison said, poking at the bowl again.  "So I'll chant my Aria, and basically it will soundproof the region in a dome.  Sound can be heard inside, but cannot leave the dome.  This way, the few guard ferals can't call for their pack to come back," she said.

"Ah, so we can fight without having to worry about backup!" Jackson said.

"Not exactly," Allison said, sighing painfully.  "I'm not a mage-type hunter, so I don't have a spark inside of me like others would.  My magic is near non-existent, I'll be leeching off mana crystals.  We have ten minutes, and that's if I'm completely undisturbed and on my A-game," she explained.

Stiles nodded, putting Knight chess pieces next to the Queen piece.  "Which is why Jackson and Scott will be guarding her, so she can continue to chant her silence aria.  Ethan is going to use his illusions and team up with me to take out the cave guards.  Danny will be technical support back here at the house, and be our contact in case things get dangerous.  He can get Derek and the others here faster than us howling," he said.

"WHAT?!  WHY ME?!  I'm totally going!" Danny shrieked, clearly outraged.

Stiles turned to his friend, shaking his head.  "You're not.  You're perfect right here, and here is where I need you to be," he explained rationally. hoping he wouldn't have to pull the "I'm the Alpha mate", do what I say card

Danny growled under his breath.  "I can handle myself FINE," he spat.

"I know you can," Stiles said, trying to force a smile.  "I know you're a big bad wolf like the rest of us, but the fact of the matter is that it makes more sense for you to be here.  Danny, you're a computer science major and a kick-ass hacker.  You really think someone like Scott or Jackson could run the equipment here?" he said, pointing to the audio and visual equipment Allison had "borrowed" from the Argent home.  It was advanced stuff, allowing for a remote operator to see, hear, and track where people out in the field were.  Stiles and Allison could run it due to experience in Hunter's College, but they would be needed in the field.

It took a few minutes, but Danny finally relented with a big huff.  "Fine.  Whatever," he groaned, folding his arms.

Stiles patted his buddy on the shoulder, turning back to the map on the table.  "Ethan's illusions will be doing most of the fighting, to minimize damage.  I'll be the one going in and trying to rescue the pup.  Even if I do have to fight the Alpha-Ferals, I don't feel pain and can heal wounds," he said, turning to EThan.  "But if things get hairy and if I can't move, you've GOT to get me out of there.  I can still die, just like the rest of you.  So if they, oh I don't know, try and EAT me, I can't heal a ruptured heart that's being digested in a feral's stomach," he exclaimed.

Ethan gave Stiles a thumbs up.  "Got it!" he said.

Jackson and Scott exchanged nervous looks.  "Shouldn't just one of us guard Allison?  You said it yourself, if Ethan's going to be distracting the guards, why are we guarding Allison?" he asked.

Allison pointed to the map, just on the outside of the bubble.  "Not all the ferals go into town or far away.  It's possible that they can slip into the silence aria, hear the fighting, and go for the nearest scent or sound.  If that happened, I'd be dead.  Then the other wolves would hear the fighting and come straight for Stiles and Ethan.  Game over," she said harshly, taking a chess piece and breaking it in half for dramatic effect.

"Gotcha," Scott said, gulping audibly.

Stiles turned to Danny.  "When we've extracted the pup, you've GOT to call the Argents and Derek.  Give them our coordinates.  We'll be running for our lives, and won't be able to take them out on our own," he explained.

Allison nodded.  "Shouldn't be too hard to get them there.  We're attacking tomorrow night, which is when 70 or so hunters will be training in a remote location underground, led by my father.  They can get to us in 5 to 10 minutes," she said, pointing to a red dot on the map, several miles from the feral cave.

Stiles raised his head up.  He knew about the hunter training, but the other factoid was news to him.  "Wait, your father?  Chris Argent is in town?  I thought he was in Canada dealing with the Yeti problems," he asked nervously.  

"Yes, he's here," Allison admitted, turning to the rest of her team.  "And that fact stays a SECRET.  I can't disclose what my family is doing, but my father is here to organize a new hunter party with my aunt Kate.  He's making sure they're up to the task, and that's all I'm going to say, other than it has nothing to do with werewolves," she said, rather darkly.

"Sure about that?" Jackson asked, spitefully.  He glared at Allison, with his cold blue Beta eyes.

Allison folded her arms.  "My family has no problem with werewolves anymore.  If you can't trust that, then you probably don't need to come with us," she spat.  While not as cold as Jackson, her own brown eyes were smoldering.

"If you think I'll leave our Alpha's mate, our DELTA, in your hands, you are sorely mistaken," Jackson said.

"Is this just posturing bullshit?!  Because he's a DELTA?  Stiles is my friend, and one hell of a hunter, don't you DARE coddle him, he could probably run CIRCLES around you," Allison shrieked.

The tension was thick.  Jackson was growling, with Scott holding onto his mate for dear life.  Allison wasn't breaking eye contact with a Beta, and the whole room was dead serious.

"Jackson, stop.  I trust her, okay?" Stiles said, moving over and rubbing Jackson's hair.  

The scenting act seemed to mildly calm down Jackson, though Stiles could still hear the Beta's heart thumping.

"Whatever," Jackson said, rolling his eyes.  "We should probably get some sleep.  Big day tomorrow, come on babe," he said, pulling at Scott's pantsline.  

While they exited, Ethan and Danny shared equally perturbed looks.

"So uh..  Yeah, bed," Danny said, laughing as he and Ethan made their own quick exits.  

Left to their own devices, Stiles turned to Allison.  "Listen, I'm sorry, I have no idea what's gotten into him.  They've all been a little clingy lately, and I think it's because they're seeing me actually work.  Up until now, I uh..  I don't let them come along when I'm out hunting," he answered.

Though he wasn't sure he believed that.  Sure, they were obnoxious when he'd fight the monsters in the night, but recently?

Well..  Jackson was a douchebag to anyone that got near to Stiles, Scott was nothing short of SHOVING food down Stiles' throat, and Isaac had some vendetta against anyone Stiles even mildly complained about.

Odd, but then again, living in a house full of werewolves tended to make life odd.

"Because you're a Delta werewolf and can have babies?  That's bullshit, that's sexist, and I can't believe you tolerate it!" Allison said, pointing to the staircase.  "Do they not realize how freaking STRONG you are?  How SMART you are?!" she yelled, clamping her hands on Stiles' shoulders.  "That is so WRONG.  You shouldn't have to put up with that," she offered sympathetically.

Stiles sighed.  "Yeah, well I didn't used to be that way, and they nearly lost me once," he said, clutching as his stomach.  He still had nightmares about it.  About Amos, about the legend of Fenrir, and about how he'd nearly lost his mind, adrift in illusions he couldn't distinguish from reality.  

Those fears fueled him.  Fueled him into the Hunter he was today.

He shook off the thoughts.  "They're just worried about me.  I'd worry about them the same, and I know they're all strong.  Especially with ferals working together.  That's not...  That's not normal," Stiles said, patting Allison's hands.  "Come on, I'll walk you home.  I need to pick up some wolf first aid kids anyway, just in case" he explained.

-

Malia, nose deep in the latest edition of Magical Malady (a hunter's magazine), groaned as she heard Matt re-enter their shared apartment.  He was on his cell phone, and honestly, if she had to hear another long-winded speech about the evils of werewolves with him and his old buddy Clovis, she was going to vomit.

"I understand," Matt said.  His face was beaming, in a creepy way.  As if he'd just been told the nuclear launch codes and how to use them.  "Malia and I will investigate.  Thank you Sir, thank you," he said, hanging up the phone and practically cackling in eagerness.

Malia rolled her eyes.  "Did they roll up the Snowfall execution date?  That's the only thing I can figure would make you THAT excited," she said.

"Remember the ferals that got loose in our home facility?  The ones that murdered my family?" Matt said, with venom in his voice.

Malia's heart thumped.  She could feel the whole atmosphere change around them. "The Dunbars?  That pack we kidnapped and exposed to the Feral Flare?" she asked.

Matt nodded.  "Yeah, the monsters," he answered, pacing back and forth anxiously.  "They tracked them.  They're in this territory, holed up somewhere," he said, menacing the floor with his angry glare.

"You're kidding!" Malia said, frightened beyond belief.  

The Feral Flare Project was their family's biggest kept secret.  In an effort to put public opinion of werewolves in the toilet, they'd been forcefully changing werewolves into ferals for YEARS.  The highlight of that plan was to feralize a well known family, like the Dunbars.  Only then would (as their leader put it) "the public come to know them as the horrid creatures they are".

The ferals who had escaped, roughly 20 or so, including a five-year-old pup at the time, hadn't gotten the full dose of the flare.  Meaning that they weren't completely gone in the mind and could probably be mildly rehabilitated.  They had to be put down, or the Zaur family's facility was going to be found, and their organization prosecuted.  Using feral flare was illegal, by both the United States government and the Ordinance 203 from the United Nations.

"No," Matt said, shaking his head.  "We have orders from Master Zaur himself.  Snow wants us to dispose of the pack, ENTIRELY.  We have 72 hours, and this prioritizes Snowfall," he answered.

Malia gulped.  "Understood...." she said, rather hesitantly.

"I'm not going to hurt him...  That's not who I am"

That stupid Hale Hunter's voice kept echoing in her head, and she couldn't block it out for anything.

"That little Gamma pup is getting it right through the throat.  Bastard kid...  If it weren't for him buffing those fearls, sis wouldn't be..." Matt said, clutching Gungnir tightly in his hand.

Malia didn't realize it, but the magazine in her hand had been torn from her gripping it far too tightly.

-_________________________-

_Cecil Noir, logging recording for Spring Meeting 3 of the Noir-Hale-Zaur-Argent Research agreement.  I don't have much time today, so I'm going to get straight to the point on this last quarter's findings.  I apologize for not being there in person, but a personal issue has called me back to Chicago._

_Per our subjects, I was able to identify the uniqueness of 4 werewolf classes._

_I'll begin with Gamma werewolves.  A peculiar find, but definitely worth noting, is that Gamma werewolves have an entirely unique organ in their body.  Located atop their heart is a small, black organ that is roughly the size of an average human pinky finger.  After autopsy, I can confirm that the organ functions similarly to a Hunter-Mage's spark.  It's an anchor inside of the Gamma's body that allows them to store magical energy from the atmosphere and release it upon focusing hard enough._

_Confirming with the Hale family, this "release" of energy seems to connect with other werewolves, increasing their muscle definition, hardening the bones, and generating heightened senses.  Unfortunately, this provided energy (courtesy of the Gamma werewolf), also lowers mental capacities.  While in this "berserk" state, the affected werewolves have lower brain functions, and can function only on instinct.  Similar to ferals, but as Talia Hale reminded me, they "still have a heart"._

_Also important to note is that Gammas cannot "buff" themselves with their own energy.  The internal organ acts as a block, though I'm not sure how.  My sister Cee is currently investigating that, alongside her Delta research._

_My professional opinion is that while Gammas are not inherently dangerous, they should be treated with extreme caution.  Angering or generating fear in a Gamma seems to release the energy naturally, through instinct._

_< There is a short pause, accompanied by a deep sigh>_

_Research subject Zeta was destroyed during trials.  My colleague that was forced upon me, Dr. Clovis Zaur, explained that extreme testing environments was the cause._

_While Subject Zeta was already dead, like many of our corpse test subjects, I want it to be made clear that I will not work alongside a man who does not respect the dead.  Any further "accidents" such as this, and I will walk from the program._

_< A few moments of silence is accompanied by another loud sigh>_

_During testing of the Zeta werewolf, Dr. Clovis uncovered that their bodies are resistant to all forms of heat and cold.  When exposed in a freezer at below freezing temperatures without any clothing, the natural Zeta body temperature remained at 102, and no signs of frostbite and/or advanced stages of hypothermia were noted._

_A similar test in extreme heats (the body's hand was placed in boiling water), showed that the skin had no degree of burn, and once again, remained at a steady 102 degrees._

_I would believe that Zetas feel neither hot nor cold at any time in their lives._

_My initial research showed that this phenomenon was caused by a special secondary dermal layer above the muscle tissue, and below what we would know as "skin"._

_I suspected that this secondary dermal layer would prevent them from being burned, a typical tactic in hunter spell training._

_Which is how Dr. Clovis managed to destroy the subject, throwing said body inside of an incinerator._

_While the body temperature did not fluctuate, the smoke inhalation from the corpse's seared skin and hair infiltrated the lungs and made breathing for the living corpse and impossibility._

_< Cecil's words are harsh, spoken in writing tones.>_

_I would question where Dr. Clovis received his medical degree._

_< Another short pause>_

_Epsilon_ _wolves were our next research subject.  We had several living wolves come in for this part of the testing, seeing as their "uniqueness" as suggested by the Hales lived inside of their minds, and could not be identified through autopsy._

_Which, naturally, they were correct._

_Epsilon wolves have genius level IQs naturally through birth and can be specialized in virtually any field.  Some of the wolves that came in for this examination have theories on things that I could never hope to understand.  One of them was very interested in a Higgs-Boson, whatever that was._

_Apparently, Epsilons are identified fairly young, given that they talk a solid 6 months earlier than most infants, and can walk about a year earlier than others._

_Talia informed me that her 3 year old son, Adam, can already read, do basic mathematics up to a fourth grade level, and expresses interest in learning how to play the piano after he had already mastered his grandmother's harp.  When I met Adam, he was able to read and had basic comprehension of most everything in my notes.  It's easy to see that he will become a bright star in the field of academia when he gets older._

_< A pause and the sound of shuffling papers>_

_Our last research subject was a return to Delta werewolves.  New information came to light as our Delta subject returned to us for a visit, during the first trimester of her pregnancy._

_While the visit was personal in nature, I observed that her pack, who had accompanied her, was more "on edge".  Any and all movements made towards the pregnant Delta was met with harsh glares, growls, and generally overprotective behavior.  My sister was pinned to the ground and nearly bitten, after tripping and accidentally brushing the Delta's side._

_After taking a sample of the Delta's blood and sweat, I found a new chemical was being secreted into her body.  A chemical pheromone that subconsciously alerts the brains of the other 25 classes._

_A chemical that screams to the other wolves "protect me at all costs"._

 

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long time since I updated, sorry! I got a little burnout, but I think I'm back. :3


End file.
